


Hairy Styles

by larrylovesthebooteh



Category: One Direction (Band)
Genre: Harry is Louis baby, Hate, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Present day era, larry stylinson - Freeform, little angsty, little fluffy
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-02-08
Updated: 2015-02-08
Packaged: 2018-03-11 05:59:06
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,494
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3316775
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/larrylovesthebooteh/pseuds/larrylovesthebooteh
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Harry gets sick of the hate about his lengthy locks and decides he wants to cut it, but Louis has other ideas.<br/>Just a normal angsty, fluffy one shot. Larry, Larry, and only Larry ;3</p>
            </blockquote>





	Hairy Styles

**Author's Note:**

> Hello Larry shippers!! This is a strictly Larry Stylinson one shot, no Elounor, or any of that, so if you don't ship it you may leave and take your hate else where. One direction do exist in this one and the other boys will be mentioned a couple times. I know, they haven't performed on Jimmy Fallon recently but i decided to use my imagination and assumed that it would be relatively similar to how it would go irl. I also in no way think Harry's hair is anything below perfect!! My friends seem to think otherwise, but i absolutely love his hair and any hate towards it is not supported by me!
> 
> Anyways, don't forget to vote and comment! Enjoy!
> 
> -Sydney

~Harry's POV~

Niall’s head flicked confusedly back and forth, the Irish boy frantically searching the room for the missing piece of clothing. Louis watched him with an amused glint in his pretty blue eyes.

“Where is it Lou, I know you put it somewhere!” Niall exclaimed in slight panic.

“Don’t know what you’re talking about, Nialler.” He said smugly. I giggled into his stomach. It was about fifteen minutes until we went to perform on Jimmy Fallon and Louis thought it would be funny to hide Niall’s shirt twenty minutes prior. And it sure as hell was funny seeing the flustered blond haired boy panicking around the room in a hurry.

“C’mon Louis, give the poor boy his shirt back." Zayn chuckled from across the room. I laughed again, shifting myself in Louis’ lap until my face was burrowed in his torso. We were currently sprawled across the only couch in the small room, me laying in the boys lap and legs thrown carelessly to the side. His hand was entangled in my hair, the other resting loosely on my side.

“But then I’d have to move, and I’m kinda pinned under a Hazza.” He smiled fondly down at me. I blushed.

Suddenly, Niall was in front of the couch, wrenching me from Louis hold. I yelped.

“Hey!” Louis exclaimed. Niall pulled me into a tight headlock, knocking my fedora to the floor.

“Give me my shirt or the curly boy gets it." he threatened teasingly. I squirmed in his hold, unable to escape his vice like grip. Louis glared at him. Then, an idea sprung into my mind. I reached over and tugged roughly on a tuft f his chest hair. A scream left his mouth and Louis beamed, standing up. Niall let go and I bounded into his awaiting arms.

“That’s my Hazzabear.” Louis stroked my hair. I grinned down at him.

“You really should give him his shirt back Lou.” I told him softly. “We only have ten minutes left.”

Louis gave into my pleading words then, yanking the shirt from a crack in the couch. Niall threw it over his head before scampering off to stand with Zayn.

“You’re so whipped.” Liam chuckled from the right. I leaned down to snuggle into his neck.

“I know.” Louis said quietly. I kissed his neck tenderly, smiling lovingly against his skin. Louis chuckled, wrapping his arms around my waist.

“Five minutes, boys come here and put your ears in.” Paul’s voice came from the door. I sighed, releasing the hold on my boyfriend with a pout. He chuckled. “You look too cute with that pout, babe. It’s killing me.” I giggled.

“That was my plan” I whispered, coming closer. Louis gasped.

“To kill me?”

“Noo!” I whined. “To look cute.”

“You look cute all the time.” He crooned, pinching my cheeks. I laughed, revealing my dimples. He pressed his thumbs in each one.

“See?” he whispered. “Adorable.”

I connected our lips, giving him a short but sweet kiss. We pulled back with a smack, cheeks flushed.

“Oi! Quit canoodling and get out here, Larry.” Niall shouted from the other room. We laughed loudly, Louis pecking my lips once more before sauntering from the room. I shook my head. I was so far gone for that boy.

**********

The familiar rush of adrenaline faded from my veins as we belted out the last verse of night changes, my personal favourite song from the entire album. Louis looked over at me from the other side of the stage, giving me a fond to which I returned. But just as Jimmy started to thank and congratulate us, I couldn’t help but overhear some rude whispers from the front of the crowd. Frowning, I listened closer.

“-needs to cut it honestly. It looks so greasy.”

“I know right, I liked him so much better a year ago when he actually used shampoo.”

“He’s just plain ugly now.”

My lip wobbled slightly at their cruel words. You’d think I’d’ve got used to hearing all the hate about my hair, but I still couldn’t be more upset about it, more so than any other hate I’d receive on a daily basis. With perhaps the exception of being a manwhore.

It seemed like everyone thought the same about it and it was getting to me more and more each insult fired at me. Ben Winston, the fans, even Liam have made it clear they don’t like it, and I haven’t exactly gotten many compliments either, so it must be true. Maybe I need a haircut.

I didn’t want one at all though. Even if no one liked it, I still liked having the wavy locks drop across my forehead whenever I ran, and I thought it looked decent as well. It was fun to style and felt so nice when Louis would run his fingers through it. But the fans were always right. And if I had to cut my hair to make them happy, I’d do it.

All I wanted more than anything was for the hate to stop. Maybe it would if I looked pretty. And I guess my hair wasn’t pretty.

As we were escorted off the stage, my eye caught Louis’ sea green ones. They were filled with concern, a slight frown touching his features. He’d obviously seen my earlier distress; that boy could read me like an open book I swear. Most of the time it came in handy, but not now. I didn’t want him persuading me out of this. If I didn’t cut it, I wouldn’t be pretty, and the fans would still hate me.

So I looked down, avoiding his questioning eyes as we walked past the paparazzi.

“Harry! Harry! Over here!”

“Niall! Are you dating Taylor Swift?”

“Are the Larry wedding rumors true?”

“You need to wash your hair, faggot!”

At that, my eyes clenched shut tightly to stop the tears from falling. Louis and I also received a lot of hate after we came out about a month ago. And the combination of those two insults nearly broke me right there.

We climbed into the limo, me taking a seat in between Zayn and Niall to try and avoid the concerned boy across from me. The ride was short and painfully silent, other than the quiet murmurs between Louis and Liam, talking about god knows what. The limo stopped about ten minutes later at the fancy hotel we were staying at and I immediately leapt out of the vehicle and made a beeline for the door to the building. I heard Louis shout my name once before groaning and starting to talk with the other boys.

As soon as I was in our room, I broke down. All the harsh words and posters flooded into my mind at once, shattering what little remained of my resolve and sending a river of tears down my cheeks. You’re twenty years old and you’re crying like a baby! I sneered mentally. But I was always much more sensitive than your average adult. I’ve had to put up with buckets of hate for four years and counting; now I was at my breaking point.

The tears continued to cascade down my cheeks as I slumped into our bedroom, desperately searching for a pair of scissors.

Hideous!

It’s so greasy!

He needs shampoo.

The words attacked my subconscious, upsetting me even further. I just want it to stop.

I sobbed as I finally grabbed the scissors hiding in the large cabinet in the room. I looked into the mirror, gazing longingly and disgustedly at the mop of untamed curls resting on my head.

I reached up shakily with the scissors, chanting the countless insults at myself mentally. Sure, I wasn’t a hair stylist, but Lou would fix it up in the morning and make the best of it. My trembling hand tugged on a single curl, about to pull it towards the scissors, but something stopped me.

“Harry!” Louis exclaimed shockingly from the doorway. I shrieked and dropped the scissors instantly, backing away from the mirror and collapsing to the floor. Dammit! 

“Harry.” He breathed, rushing to my side and pulling me into his arms. I sobbed in frustration, pulling viciously at my greasy curls.

‘What’s wrong, darling, talk to me.” He hushed in my ear, rocking my gangly body from side to side. I shook my head, continuing to cry into his shoulder.

“Stop love, you’re going to yank your hair out if you keep that up.” He grabbed my hands and attempted to gently pull them from my hair. But I only clenched them harder.

“N-no! I don’t c-care! I n-need to cut it!” I stuttered, frantically trying to squirm from his grip. Louis only held me tighter.

“What are you talking about? You don’t need to cut your hair!” he said, dumbfounded. I sobbed, finally releasing my hair and going limp in his arms.

“It’s ugly, and greasy, a-and no one likes it! Everybody says I need to u-use shampoo, b-but I shower twice a day and they still say it! I-if I cut it maybe they’ll be happy a-and I’ll be pretty.” I croaked. Louis looked appalled.

“What the hell Harry?” he snapped. I flinched and sobbed again. His expression softened.

“You are the most fucking beautiful human being on earth, baby, if someone calls you ugly they are fucking stupid and jealous of your beauty, inside and out. And your hair is a part of that too! It’s not greasy at all, its god damn luscious and more fucking pretty than pretty itself. All those people are fucking idiots and I can’t stress that enough. I think you’re perfect and I love you more than anything, if your hair looked bad I’d’ve told you ages ago.” Louis spoke each word with such ferocity and adoration, I couldn’t help but believe every word of it. He looked at me with such fiery emotion hidden behind his eyes, staring deeply into mine with the most devotion I had ever seen.

His fingers began to run through the long locks of chocolaty curls, gently tugging and rubbing like he’d always do when I was upset or tired. “If it was short, I’d never be able to do this.” He whispered, tugging them again. “It’s absolutely perfect in every way as it is, just like you.”

I buried my face in his neck, tears stopping entirely with a final sniffle. My arms were tightly wrapped around his shoulders gratefully and lovingly.

“I love you, Lou.” I whispered.

“I love you, Harry.” I grinned against his shoulder.

“Thank you.” I whispered vulnerably. He pulled away with a slight smile on his face.

“Haters gon’ hate Haz.” His eyes danced with amusement. “What are you gonna do?”

“Shake it off.” I fought back a smile, locking my hands around his neck. A large grin finally broke free on his chiseled face, encouraging one of my own.

“Don’t you hate Taylor Swift?” I said teasingly. He cringed.

“Understatement of the century.” I laughed. “But she writes some catchy songs.”

“Most of which are about me.” I pointed out. His jaw clenched slightly.

“Yeah.” Louis said, jealousy seeping into his tone. I giggled.

“Is my wee Lou Lou jealous?” I cooed teasingly. He smiled.

“Everybody wanna steal my Hazza, everybody wanna take his heart away.” He sung softly, fighting back a smile. “Couple billion in the whole wide world, find another one ‘cause he belongs to me.”

I grinned widely before leaning forward to connect our lips. We pulled away after a minute, settling our foreheads against each other.

“Seriously though. She really thinks she can piss my gay as fuck boyfriend off with a few pitchy songs. If that’s not pathetic, I don’t know what is.” I laughed loudly, cuddling into his warmth.

“Don’t worry, Loubear, I’m all yours.” I whispered into his chest.

“I know.” He said proudly and I could almost hear the smile creeping up on his face. I sighed, taking deep breaths of his calming scent.

“If you ever feel that way again, lovely, come to me first. I’ll be sure to kick their asses and give you extra cuddles.” I giggled again, nodding against his collarbone.

“But what if I want extra cuddles now?” I said shyly. Louis pulled me tighter to his chest.

“Well who am I to complain.” He whispered in my ear. I laughed, kissing the “what" part of his “it is what it is” tattoo.

“But if you’d like, I can give even more if we go to Liam’s. We’re watching World War Z with the other boys as a little delayed celebration for our album.” He offered. My eyes perked up at this. Movie nights with the boys were absolutely splendid, but unfortunately limited with our busy schedules. And with a scary movie in the mix, things were sure to be a blast.

“Let’s go!” I said excitedly, pulling us to our feet. Louis chuckled, wrapping an arm around my waist and leading us from the room.

**********

“I bring popcorn!” Niall announced in a weird voice from the kitchen. Louis and I slumped down on one of the loveseats, him sprawling out and opening his arms for me to crawl into. I curled into his smaller body, snuggling into his warmth.

The other boys all sat on the other, squished together on the small couch. Liam quickly found the movie on Netflix, clicking on it and starting the film.

“Do I get those extra cuddles now?” I whispered to Louis. He smiled at me and entangled our legs, pulling me as close as possible; a piece of paper probably wouldn’t fit between the two of us.

His hands moved from my torso to my mop of tousled curls, and he began to randomly mull and play with them. It was almost like a massage and I quietly moaned at the soothing feeling. I heard Niall snort from the couch.

“You guys are so weird.” He chortled. I smiled fondly.

“You really need to cut your hair Harry.” Zayn chuckled and we froze, Louis’ hands clamping around my locks firmly, but gently. I slowly peeled my eyes open to gaze at him hesitantly. I was about to speak, but Louis beat me to it.

“Say that again Malik, and I will personally shave a dick into the side of your head.” He snapped Zayn’s eyes widened and he laughed a bit.

“Just saying-“

“And I’m just saying that his hair is perfect and if anyone cuts it I will cut a bitch.” He said matter-a-factly. I giggled, laying my head back on his collar bone.

“You’re like a bloody pit bull.” Liam laughed, returning his attention back to the movie.

“You got that right.” I said with adoration. He smiled down at me.

“Hey you love it.”

“I love you.” I responded immediately. He gave me a fond look.

“And I love you,” he grinned. “Hairy Styles.”

fin


End file.
